


Outpost

by bittenfeld



Category: Battlestar Galactica, Battlestar Galactica (1978)
Genre: F/M, Het
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 15:41:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4485179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittenfeld/pseuds/bittenfeld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>just an unfinished bit, an excuse to have a sexy bit with Boomer and Sheba (I always did have a crush on Boomer…!).  Apollo, Starbuck, Boomer, Cassiopeia, Sheba, and Boxey are trapped on a planet.  While awaiting rescue from the Galactica, Boomer and Sheba, and Starbuck and Cassie find a way to pass the time…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Outpost

Stars speckled the forever-night sky. Now and then, a black form drifted overhead, its mechanical silhouette blocking out the pinpoints of light.

Only an overhang of rocks shielded the six from the searchlights of the leviathan above. So far, the temperature of the barren outpost hadn’t dropped below shivering, but that was no indication of how cold it might get.

Cassiopeia applied one more twist in the bandage around Boomer’s thigh. Blood was already beginning to seep through the dressing beneath his torn pant leg. Boomer gasped in pain at the pressure, his head raised out of Sheba’s lap. Tenderly Sheba lowered his head back and squeezed his shoulders gently while the blonde med-tech finished her wrapping

His face tightened; he held his breath until Cassie completed her work, then slowly he released a sigh and closed his eyes. Sheba stroked his crinkly black hair, then moved down to the base of his throat, her hands pale against the dark of his throat.

Sitting back on her knees, Cassiopeia took Boomer’s hand. “How do you feel now? I’m sorry it had to hurt.”

“Hey,” Boomer admitted, squeezing her hand, “I sure feel a lot better than I did lying out there waiting for them to pick me off.”

The two other men across the little cul-de-sac grinned at each other. Starbuck mugged a face. “Hey, Apollo, what has he got that we don’t? The only ladies down here, and he gets ‘em both.”

“I think it’s the helplessness,” Apollo considered. “Ladies can’t resist anything pitiful like a little lost daggit.”

“Yeah, and he’s probably fakin’ it, too.”

Raising up slightly, Boomer winced against the pain. “Just wait’ll I get you alone in a couple of days. Then we’ll see who’s faking what.”

From behind the rocks, Boxey scrambled out, something clenched in his fist. He ran over to Apollo. “Dad! Look what I found!”

Apollo turned. “Boxey, what were you doing out there?”

“I was exploring, like Grandad and Colonel Tigh used to do. Grandad says…”

“I don’t care what Grandad and Colonel Tigh used to do. I don’t want you wandering off. It could be dangerous out there. “

“Speaking of wandering off…” Starbuck strolled up behind Cassiopeia, who was tucking a thermal blanket around Boomer, “this looks like a delightful evening for a stroll.” He leaned down to wrap his arms around her upper body, and nuzzled his nose and mouth into her hair. “Besides, I have some exploring of my own to do.”

Cassie smiled, moving responsively to his caresses. “Well, all right. But now, don’t you let Boomer get cold, Sheba. I don’t want him throwing off that blanket as soon as I’m out of sight.”

“Don’t worry,” Sheba grinned. “I’ll make sure he stays nice and warm.”

“Hey – ” Apollo called after the pair, as they climbed through the rocks, “stay hidden. Serve you right if that searchlight found you.”

“C’mon, buddy, you know me better’n that,” Starbuck called back. “We’ll be staying undercover.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.”

Boomer sighed and stretched under Sheba’s hands. He opened one eye at Apollo. “Are you sure you and Boxey wouldn’t like to take a walk too?”

Apollo. “Hey, c’mon – you know the shuttle will be here in twenty minutes.”

“That’s time enough.” Boomer reached a hand up to Sheba.

Boxey tugged at Apollo’s sleeve. “What’s Lieutenant Boomer mean, Dad? Time enough for what?”

Apollo ushered the kid out of the alcove. “Never mind. I’ll explain it when you’re a few yahrons older.”

“You always say that, Dad. How come you won’t tell me anything ‘til I’m a few yahrons older?’

“Because.”

“How come because?”

“Just because.”

Their voices faded away.

Boomer’s hand pulled Sheba’s head down to his. Willingly her mouth met his, pressed hard, released, pressed again, then again – tasting, feeling. His lips parted to receive her tongue. Her tongue probed, she tasted his mouth, ran her tongue over his teeth, moistened his full lips. His breath caught, half in passion, half in pain. Every movement shot an electric jolt through his injured leg.

Without a word, Sheba maneuvered her feet under the blanket and slid in beside him. Her upper body lay on top of him, her elbows on either side of his head. For a moment, their gazes watched each other, then she leaned closer. The tip of her tongue traced a quivering trail across his smooth dark cheek to his lips, her hands crushed the wiry curls to his head. Her mouth opened, and this time, his tongue entered her mouth. His ragged breathing matched hers.

She worked open the velcro fastening of his tunic, and slid her fingers under the heavy quilted fabric, until they found his left breast. The nipple was hard and prominent.  
. . . . .  
__to be continued someday_ …_

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry to leave you here! There was more written originally, but unfortunately through the ensuing years, pages were lost. At least I thought I’d share what I had.


End file.
